Yue Zhao suddenly seized the disciple by the arm and dragged him into a corner.
The disciple was startled, about to cry out, when Yue Zhao's greasy voice slipped into his ear."Brother, I've got a big deal here. Interested?"
The disciple froze, then eyed him suspiciously. "Who are you? Which sect? You look unfamiliar."
Yue Zhao grinned. "I come from a small, obscure sect. Of course you wouldn't know me. My background doesn't matter. What matters is, your face tells me you're about to strike it rich."
The man grew warier. "What are you trying to say?"
Yue Zhao leaned in, lowering his voice until it was almost a whisper. "Brother, you've heard of that Yun Jin from Wushuang Sect, haven't you?"
The man nodded immediately. "Of course I have."
"And you also know how much Pavilion Master Lin Xiao despises her, don't you?" Yue Zhao pressed.
Another nod.
Lin Xiao had never openly declared it, but in all the central territories, there was hardly a soul who didn't know how much he hated Yun Jin.
"Think about it," Yue Zhao said with righteous conviction. "Pavilion Master Lin is of lofty status, and Yun Jin is just some upstart. She has offended him time and again, but out of dignity he swallows it with a smile. Pavilion Master Lin shows magnanimity, but shouldn't we, as loyal juniors, share his burdens?"
The disciple found himself nodding vigorously. He too had long wanted to give Yun Jin a taste of humiliation, but the problem was… he wasn't her match.
"Brother, you're from an upper-ranked sect, aren't you?" Yue Zhao asked suddenly.
The disciple puffed up a little and nodded.
"Then you know this," Yue Zhao said smoothly. "For a disciple of your standing to leap into a Holy Land directly, the path is steep. But if Pavilion Master Lin noticed you and took a liking to you, wouldn't that be a step straight into the heavens?"
The man's eyes brightened, though he shook his head regretfully. "But with my identity, how could Pavilion Master Lin possibly notice me?"
"There are only two ways," Yue Zhao replied with a smile. "Win his favor, or strike at what he despises. A man of Pavilion Master Lin's status has all he could ever want, so currying favor is nearly impossible. That leaves…"
"Strike what he despises," the disciple said under his breath.
"Exactly. And right now, what he despises most is Yun Jin. If you humiliate her, Pavilion Master Lin will surely take notice."
The disciple hesitated, shivering. "But I can't possibly beat her."
Yue Zhao chuckled and suddenly produced a bundle of strange items.
The disciple blinked, dumbfounded. "What… what are those?"
"Pictures," Yue Zhao explained smugly. "Captured with a special technique of mine. Look—grotesque caricatures of Yun Jin. See this one, with her head swollen like a pumpkin? Isn't it hilarious?"
The man flipped through them, snorting, then actually burst into laughter.
"This is nothing," Yue Zhao went on, pulling out more. "Here, a sandbag with Yun Jin's face on it. Can't hit the real thing? Smash this instead! And here, a shuttlecock carved with her head. Kick it around and imagine you're kicking Yun Jin herself. Or this—Yun Jin balls, Yun Jin foot-stamps—don't they feel satisfying already?"
The disciple's eyes shone. The thought of humiliating Yun Jin without risk was too sweet.
"See? In Qingxiao's territories, hardly anyone doesn't despise her. These will sell like wildfire in the city. I created them, but I can't spread them alone. So I'll sell them to you at wholesale. You resell, you profit. Me? I don't dream of Holy Lands. But you—you're a favored son of heaven. You'll earn money, yes, but more importantly, you'll disgrace Yun Jin. When Pavilion Master Lin hears of it, he'll remember your name."
The disciple was already nodding eagerly. "How much?"
Yue Zhao named a price.
The man, overflowing with silver-spoon arrogance, didn't even haggle. He tossed the money over and left grinning.
Yue Zhao slunk back into the shadows, smirking, eyes searching for his next… no, not victim—"business partner."
Within hours, the entire stock was gone.
When he returned, Yun Jin looked genuinely stunned. "All sold out already?"
She had only come up with the idea because hatred was still an emotion, and therefore a source of Emotional Value. But to see it spread so fast? Even she hadn't expected it.
"Do they hate me that much?" she muttered.
Yue Zhao chuckled, recounting his sales pitch. Yun Jin gave him a thumbs-up, her eyes alight."Then it works. But our supply is far too small. Someone go back to Wushuang Sect. Have everyone help mass-produce these. We'll keep this up for three days, then sweep in for the harvest!"
A disciple volunteered, flying back to mobilize the entire sect.
Wushuang Sect quickly fell into a frenzy of production—turning out "black merchandise" of their Sect Master at record pace.
Yue Zhao even packaged them into sets:
Hate her? Mock her: caricature collection.
Hate her? Kick her: balls and shuttlecocks.
Hate her? Trample her: floor mats, figurines, and more.
According to customer feedback, the nastier it was, the better it sold.
And then Yue Zhao pushed it further with new slogans.
"Not buying means opposing Pavilion Master Lin."
"Not buying means you're Yun Jin's dog."
Terrified of seeming disloyal, disciples snatched everything up. In just three days, every piece Wushuang Sect produced was bought clean.
Yun Jin could feel the surge in her Emotional Value, a steady river flowing faster than ever.
"No wonder," she thought, eyes gleaming. "This is a cultivator's stronghold. One cultivator's emotions equal ten thousand mortals. They buy it, they look at it, they sneer, they curse, they share it with others… and every ripple comes back to me."
This, she decided, was truly profitable.
Family, as the saying goes—black fire is still fire!
The more they cursed her, the more she thrived. Yun Jin had opened the door to a new world. To harvest hate was so much easier than to earn love. She clenched her fists, smiling wickedly. "If that's the case… then let them hate me more!"
After all, hadn't someone once said it?
Hatred always comes easier than love.